


but you had me at goodbye

by blue_roses



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, M/M, POV Second Person, implied sex, spoiler heavy, yall mind if i add a sequel fic for goro day 2 mins before midnight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-03
Updated: 2017-06-03
Packaged: 2018-11-08 10:51:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11080065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blue_roses/pseuds/blue_roses
Summary: You hate him for that. Hate him for being so blessed, so loved (even by you, despite everything).





	but you had me at goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> its goro day in pst for 2 minutes i got this

**epilogue:**

 

   If you were reliving your life the moment before death, like the rewinding of a tape, the scratch of a record, there would be an unreasonable amount of  _ him _ . Maybe you’ve been thinking in  _ what ifs  _ too often, half dreaming of a world where the two of you could have been happy. Though you don’t delude yourself any further. Time has come and gone, and luck isn’t kind enough for too much nostalgia. 

 

  But a little thinking won’t hurt. Goodbyes are all you can give, so it’s natural they’re all you can think of. 

 

**prologue:**

 

  There is a boy who you pick from a crowd. He’s plain enough, and you don’t feel like choosing anyone too eager. Always ends up grating your ears when you’re low on patience and sleep. Your eyes are nearly glazed over until he speaks. 

 

  It’s not just the words. Though that is certainly a part of it. It’s the way he keeps his eyes on you. The way his mouth tries not to break into a smile of sorts, the tightness of his expression compared to the almost disinterested way he speaks. It’d fool most people into thinking he didn’t care, but you’re good with knowing words and faces. 

 

 The goodbye happens after. When you hear some talk of a pancake house and take the opportunity to push yourself into the conversation. The blond boy doesn’t appreciate your presence, the girl looks a little confused. But there’s the boy who’s too plain to be accidental looking at you, saying farewell. And you want to push it. Wish you knew why but you did. 

 

**chapters:**

 

one → 

 

   You catch him at stations, around the city, at cafe Leblanc. It’s always pleasantries, but you want to articulate how he brings something new to your life. That you’d like to figure out how in your own selfish way. He’s direct in many ways and he says he doesn’t mind your company. You almost laugh but only slightly choke on your coffee. There’s no way he could reciprocate a damn thing if he doesn’t know what you don’t want him to know. 

 

   But he doesn’t mind your company, and you hate how much you relish the statement. 

 

 

two → 

 

  You’ve both felt too much pain. You let some things slip about yourself before you can correct yourself. But you don’t leave. He just listens. There’s no judgment in him, no real pity either. You appreciate how his gestures are silent. Not in the sense that he doesn’t speak, but in the sense that you can’t feel a strong, opinionated reaction when you talk about pain.

 

   You always say a formal goodbye, and he always responds with a wave right before you open the door. 

three → 

 

  He smiles at you for the first time. A real smile when you make some stupid, rehearsed joke at Leblanc. You know who he is now. But you still come by. For surveillance, for infiltration. You need to make him warm up to you, so you tell the joke. Can’t remember what you said now because it’s overshadowed by his laughter. You can see his eyelashes even when he tries to cover his mouth. 

 

  The sound isn’t bells or whatever. You wouldn’t call it pretty, but it’s about the only thing you hear. Then he uncovers his mouth. Rests his elbow on the Leblanc counter and he’s still smiling. 

 

  You won’t describe his smile, because that’s when you should have left this all alone. Shot him, told Shido, abandoned all this entirely. But you can make this work. Make the most out of this situation if you bide your time. 

 

  And you come around again, simply because the coffee’s good. You like the atmosphere. (No one expects anything of you, especially Kurusu.)

 

four → 

 

    ...lips against yours and you’re not sure what else you can do except reciprocate. Doesn’t mean you have any idea what you’re doing. Your lines of work never allowed you a lo-- _ sex  _ life. You didn’t think this was going to happen the second time you come up to his room. But he clearly knows what he’s doing more than you do. Already moving lower like he’s snatching something for you. 

 

  Your brain helpfully points out that he’s technically stealing your virginity. It does nothing but push you forward. Make you want every kiss you give to bruise. 

 

  Despite everything, you don’t want him to forget you. Don’t want him to wash you out like he does the stains in his sweater. 

 

  You take a brief look around while he looks at you. He even left some tools on the desk. You want to laugh and cry at the same time, and nothing you’ve experienced before will tell you why. 

  After you clean yourself up, you make sure to say goodbye. It’s the last thing that truly keeps you together when you’re with him. 

 

five → 

 

  It’s raining when you expose yourself to him. You usually hate it, but it helps you this time. Calms you without numbing you for a change. You’d just had some of his coffee when he lets you upstairs again. Carefully avoids something similar to last time. 

 

  You always push when he pulls. Never let him have a long advantage. You could analyze this to death if you wanted, but you’d rather not.

 

 You could kill him and he wouldn’t know. Wouldn’t be able to react fast enough. It’d be risky, but it’s more risky to be here instead. Taking shirts off as a sign of extended vulnerability for someone you can’t afford to trust. 

 

_ Can’t afford _ . What a fucking joke. You shouldn’t sugarcoat to yourself, but you can’t stop doing it every time he touches you. Looks at you. Talks with you. 

 

  All the two of you should be sharing is pain, and you know this is a mistake. You have to believe he does too, though it might be easier if he was in love with you.

 

 It would be, but a part of you doesn’t want to hurt him any more than an eventual bullet to the head. 

 

interlude → 

 

  What does he call you when you’re not around? To the friends you’re ambivalent towards, to all the people that have, and will grow to love him?

 

six → 

 

   “I didn’t expect this,” you say. Your head’s against his shitty mattress. Eyes half shut. You want to pretend you’re not anticipating something. You’re waiting for him to make a move as Joker, and you indulge in his company as Akira to pass the time. How ironic. 

 

   “What, did you have something to do today?” he asks. He leans down from his spot, crossed legged on his mattress. You’re tempted to kiss him so you don’t have to answer that question, you’re scared there’ll be too much truth in it. 

 

   “I’m just thinking, being around you makes me think,” he hums in response to that. Has a habit of humming like that. He says soft murmurs and mumbles of the middle words of his thoughts. If you asked, you almost wonder if he could sing for you. It’d be nice to have that memory before things escalate further. 

 

   “A lot or too much?” He asks again, as if that should be something he has to say. You’re questioning what you’re doing as you speak. You have to go to your mother’s grave to remind yourself. Have to push back so  _ much  _ because of him. You’re tempted to push him down on the bed and make him forget he asked. But you grab sheets instead of shoulders and pretend you’re measured. 

 

   A chuckle or something will make it sound less tense, “Both.” 

 

 He leans down to kiss you after that. You mouth out  _ Kurusu  _ between kisses, then  _ Akira _ but you stop yourself. You can’t let it get that far, you think, as if you haven’t already compromised everything. 

 

 You climb up with him eventually. He asks if he can go further than he have before. You want to ask if it’s his first time, before realizing you say it out loud. “No,” he says. But he treats you like he loves you the whole time. You want to throw up your butterflies everytime he reassures you. 

 

  You have to get your clothes together after you clean up, just so you don’t feel him all over your bare skin. Again. This can’t happen again, probably won’t, either considering the blood that’s about to be on your hands.

 

  “ You know, if you told me to clean my act up, I might do it,” you say. And a part of you wants him to understand everything you’ve ever said. To have been ahead of you, to tell you not to leave and not to do what you need to. If he did, things cou-- 

 

   “I don’t know what you mean,” he says. You should’ve known this by now. Kurusu never pushes unless he knows as much as he can know. 

 

   “It’s okay,” it isn’t okay, “you don’t have to.” But you want him to. As if he’ll fix you somehow. Fix everything, the whole damn world while he’s at it. He won’t though.

 

  You shut the door behind you again. He does not wave, he does not follow.

 

interlude → 

 

   Blood is thicker than coffee and infatuation. But he acts like it’s the other way around. 

 

seven → 

 

  A murderer joins a band of thieves. This is all for your justice. All for bringing down a man too powerful for any of them. This is the last act, and then it’ll be just you against Shido. 

 

  Shame you won’t be able to drink Kurusu’s coffee once this team act’s done. Once everything comes crashing down, this will just be another memory of an unwanted, unhappy child. As long as that man is dead, you’ve stopped thinking of yourself as human.

 

  But he says, “I’ll let you know when this is over, in words this time,” as if everything’s going to be perfectly fine. As if it  _ was  _ fine. As if you were in  _ love  _ and can be like this ever again. You hate him for that. Hate him for being so blessed, so loved (even by you, despite everything).

 

  You pull him by apron and shirt and kiss him. Doesn’t matter if teeth get in, if anything wrinkles. Don’t even pay enough attention to the restless, vulnerable look you’re sure you have. You take a shallow breath before smiling. Just like you do for the TV appearances, the interviews.

 

    This is the last time you’ll be allowed any form of attachment to him. No goodbyes needed, just a camera-worthy smile and a quiet exit.

 

eight → 

 

  You get the last laugh. Even if it’s actually a goodbye and there’s nothing you can do except sacrifice. 

 

**epilogue (cont.):**

 

  You wouldn’t apologize if you saw him again. Just say  _ hello _ as a version of yourself you haven’t yet learned. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> i cry at comments all the time tbh!!! i hope yall liked u can talk to me on tumblr @delphinidinrose or twitter @memetiddy!!


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